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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290581">Inkay Jellies and an open palm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cain_kakushi/pseuds/cain_kakushi'>cain_kakushi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kakushi's Spooktober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun &amp; Moon | Pokemon Sun &amp; Moon Versions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Corporal Punishment, Don't try to sexualize it I will personally smack you, Found Family, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking, Parent Guzma (Pokemon), Spanking, Spooktober, Trick or Treating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:55:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cain_kakushi/pseuds/cain_kakushi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They did not have rules, ‘kay? <i>Hooligans</i>, old Hala would say. Guzma wasn’t a fan of rules either, but delinquent or not, either you were in and tried not being an asshat for the rest of the team, or you were going to face consequences.<br/><i>More often than not, in the form of smacks to your ass.</i></p><p>Or; Guzma spanks a grunt for eating the Halloween supply of candy. It gets a bit sappy.</p><p>Written for the Spooktober Bingo -<br/>Spooktober Week Day 3: Trick or Treating</p><p><b>WARNING</b>: this work contains non-consensual and non-sexual corporal punishment <b>(spanking)</b> and a loose usage of swear words.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Guzma &amp; Skull-dan no Shitappa | Team Skull Grunt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kakushi's Spooktober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Spooktober 2020!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Inkay Jellies and an open palm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic took a while more because it was a flight of fancy I absolutely did not plan, but I thought it was cute! It’s strange to let the first of my pokemon fics be a seasonal one but hey, as the prophet once said - <i>whaddya want?!</i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t the first time it happened, and it wasn’t the last time it would.</p><p>Team Skull was a family - <em> his </em> family - and as such, it was meant to be protected and cared for. Especially if his grunts were a little army of numbskulls that couldn’t tend to themselves.</p><p>You can punch someone who fucked up a fixed number of times: usually once and then never see them again. Guzma had learned far too well how a beating never worked, no matter the circumstances, no matter how much he valued strength in a pokemon and in a trainer.</p><p>That was how he also learned that a spanking was an entirely different thing.</p><p> </p><p>They did not have rules, ‘kay? <em> Hooligans </em>, old Hala would say. Guzma wasn’t a fan of rules either, but delinquent or not, either you were in and tried not being an asshat for the rest of the team, or you were going to face consequences.</p><p>More often than not, in the form of smacks to your ass.</p><p>He didn’t like being the bad guy and doing the dirty work (as in, bending dunces over his knee), but then who else would have done it? Plumeria? Nah, she’d have rather kicked his head off than even attempt scolding grunts. She couldn’t be bothered and Guzma wasn’t going to blame her for that.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Rule number one - you don’t fight with your teammates. Unless it’s a pokemon battle or you’re trying to bust sick moves, or both at once, you know?</p>
  <p>Rule number <strike>three</strike> two - don’t steal anything from the House stash. The rest is on you fuckers, be mindful of where you keep your things.</p>
  <p>Rule number three - don’t go against the Boss. We should have that at number one, the hell?!</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>The list continued for pages and pages printed out with the help of their favorite officer, Nanu. Not like he knew that they sneaked in his office to use his printer, but what did he need ink for? The most he used the computer for was playing solitaire.</p><p> </p><p>Guzma had never had the pleasure of dealing with a dumbfuck capable of breaking the first three rules at once.</p><p>Until then at least.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“You can’t treat me like this!” The guy protested, his legs flailing like mad again.</p><p>That boy had guts, Guzma could recognize it, but he promised he would have peeled off the skin of his ass if his crusty shoes hit his track pants again.</p><p>And they did. Again and again, getting dangerously close to Guzma's groin, leaving nasty grey streaks all over - and Guzma had to take a <em> mental </em> deep breath before making the harshest wallop fall on the guy's thigh. It stopped the squirming, at least.</p><p>"Like hell I can't!" The boss grabbed the elastic band of that numbskull's trousers and yanked them down, no matter how tight they were, to expose a pair of white briefs.</p><p>At least they weren't stained?</p><p>Guzma shook his head at that and raised his hand, fully intending to continue the spanking and get it over, but when he brought it down, his hand did <em> not </em> meet that guy's ass.</p><p>It stopped halfway, colliding with the sole of his dirty sneaker, as his foot was raised as a way to protect him from the blows.</p><p> </p><p>Guzma had never been the friendliest of the bunch. He had a short temper, sorted fights by smacking both parts, and yes - big hands, tall figure, cool biceps, all that jazz could be scary. As a grunt, either you respected him or you feared him.</p><p>Honestly, he couldn't care less. The most important thing was to not get in his way, then you'd be chill in his eyes.</p><p>But that <em> brat </em> had crossed each and every line in the span of ten minutes.</p><p> </p><p>The boss was a man of his words. While he couldn't peel the literal skin off the guy's rear, Guzma hooked a finger in his briefs and yanked them down too.</p><p>"B-Boss!" He squealed, a hand reaching behind to try and cover his pink-stained bottom.</p><p>The boss stayed silent. Precise, thanks to years of dealing with thugs twice his size, Guzma pinned the boy's hand on his lower back and then clamped his squirming legs with his right thigh.</p><p>"Listen," He growled through his teeth, palm connecting with the pink skin again in a harsh clap, "you're under a shared roof now, so you'd better go by rules. Ya break them, ya boy tans you."</p><p>The reminder stinged harder when Guzma resumed the smacking, leaving behind white impressions that instantly turned red and swollen. Seeing it happen on the bare was unusual, yet somewhat useful: Guzma found himself trying to turn the patchy marks to an even Cherubi pink, making the brat on his knee cry out in pain.</p><p>Maybe he should've bared everyone during tannings… it was in his power, right?</p><p> </p><p>Screw it, it wasn’t time to think about that.</p><p> </p><p>That boy was a tough one. He did not cry, nor beg; on the contrary, he resumed the little squirming he could do and smacked a hand on the mattress. "The fuck did I run from home for?!" He yelled, frustrated.</p><p>Guzma stopped, warm hand freezed mid-swat. Of course he would go for tragic family backstories, <em> his soft spot. </em></p><p>The boy took it as an occasion to slump against his knee and talk some more… or to downright vent. "I didn't run away just to come here and be smacked like a baby for eating candy…!" He pouted, suddenly not sounding as bold as before. "This is my stomach! Why would you care?! I'm capable of- OW!" His speech was cut by another sharp swat. "I was speaking!"</p><p>"Keep that overly dramatic backstory for yourself, numbskull! I don't care what you lot do or not do as long as y'all don’t fight, ‘aight?”</p><p>“But it was their fault!” He protested, mouth agape and then quickly closed when another sound smack caught his ass.</p><p>"Shut that damn mouth before I make you, would you?!"</p><p>The grunt punched the mattress again, wet groans impossible to keep for himself now that his rear was on fire. "I don't deserve to be… to be…!"</p><p>"<em> Whooped </em>? Oh, boy..." The Boss scoffed, stopping to make himself heard. "You finished the whole bag-thing of jellies! It was meant to be shared!"</p><p>Guzma could see it from his expression: dumb confusion, eyes wide… perfect, maybe he <em> was </em> understanding.</p><p>Until the numbskull opened his mouth again.</p><p>"Am I getting my ass handed 'cause I ate your candies?! Seriously?!"</p><p>Wow, he didn't just miss the point, <b>worse</b>. </p><p>"I fucking hate those jellies! They taste like salt water and grime!" Guzma snarled, "That doesn't mean that you get to sack the whole thing like a miniature Snorlax!"</p><p>There was a moment of silence in which the grunt lowered his gaze, body relaxing again in some sort of guilt. Guzma wasn't cruel; at that sign of repentance he was ready to make him stand… But then the brat had something else to say.</p><p>“You mean a Munchlax?”</p><p> </p><p>There were a lot of things capable of ticking off Guzma and among them, talking back was one hell of a way.</p><p>His heavy hand fell again. “Fucking smartass...” The Boss said through his teeth - inaudible, basically, under the loud spanks that bounced off the guy's rear.</p><p>That brat whined helplessly, feet drumming against Guzma's thigh in some kind of Eelektrik dance. </p><p>"I’m not a snotty only child, Boss!" He sobbed. Of course he wouldn't stop talking, even when his ass was roasted, because someone who isn’t dumb on purpose never shuts up.  "Nobody was eating the jellies and- and then-!" He yelped louder when the spanking did <b>not</b> stop either; it worsened.</p><p>"I'm an only child myself, idiot! Scram with those stereotypes!" Guzma lectured (shouted?) before abruptly stopping the wallops. </p><p>They both took their time to breathe - one through a snot-filled nose, the other through anger.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Okay, calm down. </em>
</p><p>Malasadas, Tapu Cocoas, Malasadas dipped in Tapu Cocoas-<br/>
Those sweet images soothed his nerves immediately, clearing him of the urge to pulverize the grunt's ass (even if his hand was still very much tingling).</p><p>"Do you really don't understand what happened?" The boss inquired.</p><p>"No… !"</p><p><em> As expected. </em> "Nobody was eating candy because they weren't meant to be eaten."</p><p>"What?" The brat paled, his free hand trying to cup his stomach, but it was still pressed on Guzma's thigh. "Were… were they expired…?"</p><p>"...who knows? Might as well, they were on clearance. But that's not the point. They were meant for the kids."</p><p>"What kids?"</p><p>"The kids!" Guzma tried to mime something with his hands, but failed. “I mean- yeah, you're a kid too!"</p><p>"No I'm not! Just because you're of age and I’m still sixt-"</p><p>"If you don't shut that mouth right now I'll let Ariados' web deal with it. It was for the trick or… creak or… threatening or… the snacking crackalackin…" He snapped his fingers, searching for the right words-</p><p>"Trick or treat?"</p><p>"That. And now the kids have no candies."</p><p>"<em> The hell? </em> Is it Halloween?"</p><p>"Are you stupid? Why would Plumeria smash makeup on some of the grunt’s faces if it wasn’t?"</p><p>The boy turned to look over his shoulder, tears still circling in his eyes. "F-fashion? I don't know, I thought those were your usual eyebags…" </p><p>“These <b>are </b>my usual eyebags! I would never let her touch my face, ya brat!” Guzma huffed, the beginning of a headache thumping at his temple; if he could get the boy to go away, maybe he could take a swing or two out of that brand new bottle... </p><p>He patted the grunt’s side to let him up, helping him stand in the process. “Don’t sneak around like a thief anymore, ‘kay? You’re dismissed… or something. Ya know, scram.”</p><p>"Boss… The candies looked alone, and they were my favorite…" The boy looked down at their feet while redressing, too embarrassed to meet Guzma’s grey eyes. "We really don't have any other bag?"</p><p>"We really don't, kid. Budget is tight."</p><p> </p><p>Guzma hated tears.<br/>
Not in the “I hate them so much I’d want to punch you” kind of way, unfortunately; it was more of a “please stop or I’ll begin catching feelings”. That was the number one reason he had always steered away from children. And that night, the brat decided to tug at his heartstrings.</p><p>The hated boss who beats you down, and beats you down, and never lets up... Yeah. Big bad Guzma, that one, felt the need to <em> comfort </em>that guy.</p><p>"Wee crybaby, I smacked the hell out of you and now you cry?” He sighed, hands hovering to…</p><p>...hug him?</p><p>No, fuck that. Not hugs.</p><p>The boss placed an open palm on the grunt’s head, ruffling his dye-damaged hair a bit. “I know that you're far from home, but I didn't think you were so damn stupid to forget the date."</p><p>"I'm sorry, it's…” his face flushed red, “It rains all the time here and… and you know, I’m always bothering the trainers, the… you know… and then I saw the jellies! They are my favorite, they remind me of my nana…"</p><p><em> Of course the fucker would bring grandmas into this. </em> Only old hags could hand out those ink-tasting candies.</p><p>Guzma stopped that confused rambling with another pat. "Yeah, yeah, I have some coins lying around, so I'll go snatch some other candy in the Thrifty Megamart.” Since he was the only one in there with a license that didn’t come from a gumball machine. Well, that meant that alcohol had to wait. Contrary to popular belief, driving while tipsy was never a good idea.</p><p> </p><p>Guzma went to search for the keys buried in a Skitty mug, but the brat came into view again. “I’ll come with you!” </p><p>“I said, scram."</p><p>"I have to, Boss! They will never forgive me otherwise."</p><p>Wow, where did he get that spirit of self-sacrifice all at once? "Pff, they have done worse." Guzma scoffed, burying the keys in his trackpants.</p><p>"And did you… ?"</p><p><em> Spank them? </em> He laughed out loud at the thought. “Guess. There were times when a whooping wasn’t enough, so Golisopod and I punched them into oblivion."</p><p>That list of <em> times </em>was almost as long as the “rule” list.</p><p>Trying to steal each other’s pokemon, beating or neglecting them, bringing weapons in Po town, stealing cash, writing slurs on the buildings...<br/>
From the first to the last, they were all yeeted off the nearest cliff to bathe in the salty ocean. There was no place for them in Team Skull; maybe they were hooligans, or delinquents, or whatever the hell Hala wanted to call them, and maybe it was full of numbskulls and brats, but they were <em> not </em> evil.<br/>
They were just… protesting or something. Chilling, maybe. Living their life in a way that the Alolan folks could never accept.</p><p>Maybe… growing together?</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It was getting sappy, horribly sappy, and mushy, and strange, and that brand new liquor was so close and yet Guzma could not take a swing… not yet, at least! That was the downside of being a decent human, uh?!</p><p>He couldn’t wait for that day to end. Halloween his ass! The numbskulls were going to use it as an excuse for staying up until morning and pulling stupid pranks, something he would probably hate, something that was not going to help that pounding headache, but he’d be damned if he let that party flop for a bag of candies. He was going to snatch something even better than those horrible Inkay Jellies. </p><p>Guzma slapped a hand on the grunt’s back. “How are ya feeling?”</p><p>“My ass hurts.” He pouted, but still got his bandana on - meaning that like every good Team Skull grunt, he was back to business.</p><p>“I’ll let you come with me if you have normal-type pokemons.”</p><p>“Well, I have a Gumshoos…”</p><p>“Ah, see? Perfect.”</p><p>His eyes sparkled as he let Guzma bring him down the stairs with an arm around his shoulder. “Are we going to the Thrifty Megamart in Malie? It’s going to close soon.”</p><p>“Nah, not that. We don’t have that kinda money.”</p><p>“Which one are you talking about then, Boss? The next one is in Akala.”</p><p>Guzma tightened his grip, a devilish grin appearing on his face. “See, boy, there’s another one on Route 14. Let me bring you there…”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The ending is shady but for the love of Arceus <b>do not</b> sexualize them. Guzma just wants to give the brat a spook.</p><p>Thanks for reading! 💙 This work was inspired by the fic <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881771#main">Give it a Nice, Hard Smack</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Case_Axy/pseuds/Space_Case_Axy">Space_Case_Axy</a><br/>. It was written a lot of time ago but I'd definitely advise you check the author out!</p><p>Please leave all kinds of feedback if you'd like, they make my day! Love you all,<br/>Cain<br/>Xoxoxo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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